


Bird in Flight

by mixedwithintellect



Category: Don't Let Me Go - Harry Styles (Song), Kiwi - Harry Styles (Song), One Direction (Band), Sweet Creature - Harry Styles (Song)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Music Store, F/M, Fleetwood Mac, Spring Cleaning, Strangers to Lovers, because obviously i have to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 00:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixedwithintellect/pseuds/mixedwithintellect
Summary: the one where Y/N does spring cleaning in December and Harry assumes responsibility for her music education.





	Bird in Flight

“Hi, I’m looking for the Drop Off desk?”

The box of books in her arms was so full that the tower of novels had begun precariously leaning over on one side, so Y/N shuffled around until they were resting safely against her chest. All sorts of books were crammed in the confines of the cardboard box, ranging from celebrity autobiographies to textbooks from university courses 3 semesters ago.

She was at Richards, the local discount CD & Book store, located a bit out from campus, near the Office Max but not on the same street as Walgreens. It was difficult finding the place after listening to her friends’ directions left on her voicemail, but she had eventually found her way. 

Y/N had begun a rough ‘spring cleaning’ in the middle of December, shortly after her finals had finished and her time spent in her apartment increased. She just needed the feeling of having empty space, of walking up to her bookcase and not feeling overwhelmed by how many novels she  _didn’t_  want to pick out.

And if she could make a few bucks from it, why not?

Her attention was set on the employee kneeling on the floor, unloading a box of books onto the shelves next to him. If that hadn’t been enough of a sign that he was a worker there, the bright orange vest and name tag that read  _harry :)_  was a sure enough guarantee that she was speaking to the right person. He looked up, a practiced _I’m-a-retail-worker_  smile on his face as he tucked his hair behind his ear.

“Sure, it’s over against tha’ wall,” he pointed towards the other side of the store, nodding politely at Y/N as she thanked him.

Groaning to herself when her arms grew strained and protested the heavy load, Y/N was halfway across the store when she heard his voice a second time.

“Wait! Actually, I don’t think Shelia’s back from her break yet, but I can go ahead and get yeh sorted,” the man stood up, brushing his hands off against his jeans as he walked over. His vest was a bit askew against his chest, showing a bit of the design on his shirt, enough for her to see a hint of Britney Spears’ face.

She reached the counter as he did, and waited patiently as he unloaded her box to place the books in one of the store’s bins. It took a long while, considering that she had gone through her collection four times to firmly determine which books she was keeping on a false hope of getting to them ‘some day’.

Harry was humming one of the Christmas songs that was playing throughout the store, and Y/N reached in her purse to pull her phone out. She prayed for a message or two, even if it was from one of those student organizations that had roped her into their contact list, so it wouldn’t be blatantly obvious that she had nothing to do but wait. 

The awkward tension, probably only felt on her side as a customer, made Y/N very aware of her hands. More specifically, how they had nothing to do, so she took to stuffing them in her jacket pockets and keep her eyes looking at random slips of paper on the counter.

“Is this your first time at Richards?” Harry asked as he turned to start up the computer, and Y/N nodded.

“Heard you guys give fair prices,” she answered, to which Harry hummed again and nodded, “Just needed to clean out my shit, thought I’d get some money for it.”

Harry held out some papers for her to sign, and she took the pen gratefully, glad that she had something to do and wasn’t left to avoid looking at the cute guy helping her out.

Y/N wondered if he had judged which books she was selling; the majority of them were classics and bestsellers, the ones she had promised herself she would read at some point. Frankly, that time had never come, especially since the books had mundane descriptions that outweighed, to Y/N, the stellar reviews given on Amazon. They had only collected dust on her shelves, never to reel her in enough to genuinely read them.

“Okay, perfect,” Harry flashed another grin, this time a bit more genuine, and Y/N felt a flutter in her chest. He was cute, there was no denying. “The process here is fairly easy. Whatever books we take, we’ll offer either store credit or cash in return. So, if yeh wanted to get anything we’ve got on the shelves today, that credit can go towards it.”

Y/N nodded, brushing some hair behind her ear as she glanced around the store. It was mostly empty, just a handful of staggered employees roaming the corners and a group of teenagers by the anime section. Large yellow signs were hung above each corresponding section, and a wall of guitars and other instruments decorated the area around the CDs. Overall, it seemed just as cute as her friends had described it to be.

A woman walked up behind Harry, also donning the orange vest, mumbling some variation of ‘hello’ as she grasped the box full of Y/N’s books. She took it to the back, on a white table that was surrounded by other boxes that looked similar to Y/N’s.

Harry didn’t seem to react much to his co-worker finally returning from her break, just nodded his greeting to the woman (presumably Shelia) and signed next to Y/N’s name on the papers. As if he just remembered something, he looked up quickly, quirking an eyebrow and pointing with the pen towards the CDs.

“We actually got in a couple o’ Fleetwood Mac albums earlier, if yeh wanted to check those out.  The older stuff tends to go quick.”

“Fleetwood Mac…?” Y/N trailed off, looking over at the collection of music as if it would suddenly dawn on her who they were. She was awful at knowing about ‘cool’ music, generally going along with whatever her friends played on the AUX, or jamming to the radio on whatever station worked. If she had to guess, Fleetwood Mac was some band that had come back as a ‘vintage’ sound for hipsters.

When she turned back to look at Harry, she saw he was staring at her in disbelief, shaking his head. He put down the pen, a slight smile on his face as he spoke.

“I can guarantee you’ve heard them before, even if yeh don’t know it.”

Y/N shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed that she hadn’t a clue, but Harry didn’t seem to be genuinely offended, or think she was behind on the times. He seemed convinced that Fleetwood Mac, whatever they were, were so prevalent in the world’s sphere of influence that Y/N couldn’t have existed without hearing them before.

She was debating how to awkwardly end the conversation and lose herself within the rows of novels, hiding until she had to approach the counter once more, but Harry seemed to have other plans.

“Follow me, I’ll show yeh. Bloody  _Fleetwood Mac_ …” he mumbled, rounding the corner of the counter and walking towards the CDs. She had really no other choice but to follow, wondering if this was part of his sales technique and she would feel pressured into buying stacks of Scottish disco rock CDs the store had failed to sell yet.

Not that she’d had done that before specifically, but sure enough her AUX privileges had been taken away within her friend group, after the fifth round of Polish jazz musicals. 

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he introduced himself as they walked, and his hands went up to pull his hair into a bun. Y/N’s eyes followed the movement, half in awe of how simple he had it look. She knew the struggles of the bun, how it could be too tight or too loose with even a centimeter difference of the position or tightness of the elastic. Yet, this Richards employee just  _did_  it. Like it was nothing.

Even had the loose strands by the sides that straddled between looking too practiced and messy.

“I’m Y/N,” she replied, and Harry mumbled a ‘nice to meet yeh’, looking over at her with a grin.

“Right over here, it’s gonna change yeh life,” he promised, as they approached a row of CDs. 

He picked one out of the group, holding it with one hand and showcasing it off with his other, as his fingers spread out in a jazz hands. 

Y/N pursed her lips together to show how impressed she was, despite not particularly knowing whether she was or not, and reached up to grab some headphones from the station. Harry did the same, as there was a pair meant for two people to hear the same sample. He slid in the disc and selected one of the songs, after a brief moment’s hesitation. He then stood with his hands on his hips, looking at Y/N in anticipation.

She couldn’t help but laugh under her breath at that, her hands placed on the sides of the headphones as she looked back at him. It felt a bit awkward, especially since his stare was quite intense and his nose crinkled a bit when he sniffed, and a hint of a smile seemed to be on his lips as he waited for her reaction and-

Oh, the music had started.

Her eyes traveled down as she concentrated, trying to place the song in her shuffled mess of memories.

_Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise_

“It’s called The Chain,” Harry murmured, his head bobbing slightly to the rhythm of the music, and Y/N was surprised she was able to make out what he was saying against the loud volume of the song. It was obviously it was one of his favorites, with how his hand went out, his fingers tapping the beat against his pants, the CDs by their side, anything within reach. His mouth seemed to be forming the words, barely, but growing more obvious as the chorus came up.

Y/N still felt lost. She didn’t recognize the song, and Harry soon realized that when he looked at her. Confusion swam in her eyes, and she shook her head when they made eye contact.

Harry pursed his lips.

“Alright, alright. Let’s try this one then, love-” he reached out and selected a different song, his hand remaining on the device in case she didn’t recognize the next one, either. His eyes seemed a touch more desperate, as if he couldn’t let himself believe that she genuinely hadn’t heard of them. As if a part of his world, the foundation he had based off his entire perception from, would crumble.

It took a few seconds, but it eventually dawned on her.

“Ooh! I do know this one,” she grew excited, and Harry let out an audible breath of relief. Y/N started mouthing along to Go Your Own Way, nodding her head to the music as she swayed slightly. Harry nodded his approval, evidently pleased that his world was in order again, and everything was okay.

She took off one of the ears to the headphones, so the band was diagonal over her head and the music was still playing in one ear. Harry had pushed down the headphones so they rested around his neck, his eyes focused completely on her.

It felt intense again, but she didn’t mind.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good,” Harry commented, picking up the album and looking at the cover with nothing short of complete admiration on his face.

“How much is it?” Y/N gestured towards the CD, feeling herself sink into the awkward  _he’s trying to sell me something and he’s being super nice so I really don’t know how to say no_  sinkhole, but Harry frowned.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “It’s free. This is  _basic_  education, it’d be on my conscience if yeh had to pay.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unsure if Harry understood the concepts of capitalism and how a business was run, but he waved her off.

“Not a problem, love, don’t worry about it. Just make sure I’m the one who rings yeh up, yeah?” And he took the headphones off from his neck, hanging them back in place, and, in a split second that had Y/N question whether it happened or not, he winked at her. Then, as if it hadn’t happened and as if her heart hadn’t just stopped for a second, Harry turned around and was walking back to his box of unstocked books near the front of the store.

It took her a few minutes to get herself together. Which frustrated Y/N greatly, because he was simply a  _boy_ , whose existence she hadn’t been aware of half an hour ago. But he was  _cute_ , and he was  _kind_ , and he had good taste in music. 

If he was also emotionally unavailable, he’d fit in great with the rest of her exes.

With a grim look on her face at the thought, Y/N reached forward to stop the machine, and hung her headphones neatly back in place. 

The Fleetwood Mac album was firmly in her hand as she perused the rest of the CDs, occassionally bringing one or two over to the sample station. Y/N had an awful tendency of judging the music by the cover first, and then trying the songs, but her way about things rarely failed, so she continued with them.

And most of the time, her superficial judgment was right. Maybe true musicians just understood color schemes.

By the time Shelia called out Y/N’s name from the Drop Off counter to go over the amount of credit she’d receive, Y/N had a considerable stack of CDs in her arms. 

Some of the artists were Jessie Ware, Tracy Champan, Van Halen, MUNA, and The Fratellis, in addition to a handful of random artists she picked up along the way. Those were the only ones that Harry rambled about when he checked her out, though. His words kept flowing, as if he was trying to convey as much as possible before Y/N left, before the store was quiet again and he would be alone to overanalyze everything he had said.

Y/N contributed to the conversation what she could, but it was mostly, “Can’t wait to hear the album all the way through” and “Oh, that’s cool”. It didn’t feel forced, though, and she was more endeared with his passion to be bothered by her lack of expertise.

Harry didn’t seem deterred by her awkward nods and smiles, more so taking it as an opportunity to share his interests and help her find new music. That’s what he said, as he took off her store credit from the total, and printed out a receipt.

“Music is to be enjoyed, y’know? Hate how some people act like it’s an exclusive club, like yeh need some credibility to know what yeh like and don’t like. Just fuckin’ listen, and yeh’d figure it out.”

Y/N moved to pick up her plastic bag of CDs, nodding at Harry in agreement. It didn’t feel like she had to say much, because they were on the same page entirely.

He leaned against the counter, watching her as she set her card back into her wallet and hiked her purse back up on her shoulder. Before she could thank him for his help and perhaps offer a vague promise for a return soon, Y/N found her eyes sweeping towards a placard sign resting on the counter.

In large letters read the message:  _Hiring for the Holidays_.

Harry shifted his gaze, and a shyer smile grew on his face. He shifted against the counter, straightening his back out a smidge, as if reminded that he was at work and wanted to seem professional.

“Yeh interested? I can get yeh the application,” he offered, and Y/N paused before nodding.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Har.”

The nickname slipped out without her thinking about it much, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. He just stared at her for a second longer than a casual situation would entail, before standing up all the way.

“Alright, be right back,” he mumbled, and Y/N pulled out her phone again for a short distraction. Harry headed towards the office near the back of the store, passing Shelia on the way. The older woman shot him a look as she restocked the Oscar Wildes.

“You’ll get even  _less_  work done around here, being all star-eyed over her,” she grumbled, and Harry smiled cheekily.

“Love yeh too, Shelia.”


End file.
